


Tell Her

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-11
Updated: 2007-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every step is flawed method.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alianora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianora/gifts).



> Takes place during the R. Tam Sessions.

They cut and listen to sounds only they can hear. They peer with covered eyes and make their judgments. The girl can hear them, though they don't believe that she can. They don't understand the errors of their ways, the horrid bits of meaning behind every step of flawed method. There are errors in the system, hard eyes and sharp sounds and matters not to anyone else. There are little things that cannot be avoided, try as we might. Frustrations will abound, the girl knows this. They cannot avoid it, and she will crumble before them, unreliable to a fault. She cannot go, cannot articulate, cannot proceed. There are few things proceeding forward as planned. The process is flawed, the method undated unupdated incomplete.

She cannot survive. She cannot proceed. She cannot win.

Can she evade the net? She can fold and bend into shadow and obfuscation, layers of intimated meaning. Outcomes notwithstanding, there is no way to tell anyone else what had happened. The process is flawed. The girl is flawed.

They do not understand the hearts of those they cut apart. They do not feel it is necessary to do so. They do not care. The girls would have to have souls. The girls would have to be useful as more than bodies that move and have sinuous strings to pull. They would have to realize that someone is left to care. They need to protect them from themselves. Lapses in judgment allowed it to go this far, but it will go farther yet. Their faulty means to educate fail. Dismally.

Out of the errors come another way to move, another means to an end, an ends to a means, a way to an exit. Exit. No voice to carry, no voice to speak. No words. No heart. Nowhere else to go, nowhere else to be. Slip down into the ether, darkness enveloping the girl, wrapping her up into a field of oblivion.

There she goes. There she is. The flow of blue and blue and blue. Written in blue. Pursuit of blue and errors highlighted in red. Errors can't occur or else the death they wish for is uncontrolled, out of their hands. Unreliable reliability, unavailable availability. No way in but out, no other way but through.

The girl knows this. She flows into the sea. She knows where to go, where to be, who to be. She does know what will happen if she is let loose—

risk of exposure of discovery of knowledge even as Regan and Gabriel deny any plausibility to the tale and keep Simon occupied from the dangers posed therein for the knowledge is dangerous a little knowledge is a deadly in the wrong hands and his are dangerous most of all but they cannot see this and cannot accept it so the girl remains stoppered up in a bottle of blue to keep the others safe—

The girl knows she will never escape. They will not allow it, they guard too tightly against it.

She sees the gaps between their fingers, the patterns in beeps and boops and blue.

She's not the only one making errors. She's not the only one in chains.

The girl hears them, screams and blues and greens and failed experiments are scrubbed down in antiseptic and purged from the system.

Down the river. Over the river. Ever the river.

We flow out to sea, the ocean moves on without us all, measure for measure at a loss for words.

Shut it down, cut it out, falling and falling down again. Toxic, deadly, arc of bone and blade and rage and want.

Tell her. Tell River the girl is gone and can't be again. Tell her the child will never return and the flutter of ballet shoes ends. Tell River she is not Tam but Alliance, not birthed of blood and heart but soulless surgical steel. Tell her the way to go amongst the ruins in the dark blue sea, the lure of the forbidden done and gone.

Tell her before it's too late, too late, tell her, though she's already half gone, half dead and buried and lost within the fields of blue. Loss and failure and waste of time. Anger. Lost emotion and opportunity, the field is gone and done. Let River fall into the sea, swallowed into oblivion and dragged down into the depths.

Let the River go, for she's also a broken thing and has too far to go. There is too much left to lose, too much gone and dead.

Tell her. Look into the mirror and tell girl of the future yet to come. Tell her what you see.

Tell her what I am and listen to her scream.

Failure in outcome, terror and obfuscation. Tell her of that as well. Wait and listen for the echoes in the heart. Let her know, and watch her crumble, Alliance in her blood, steel in her chest.

She doesn't know the damage she can do, or what must be done. Look into the mirror and tell her how it goes.

I know I can't.

 

The End.


End file.
